


The Wasteland

by rainingmiikncookies29



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cum Eating, Daddy Kink, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fivesome - F/M/M/M/M, Forced Abortion, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Prostitution, Gang Rape, Hair Pulling, Large Cock, Loss of Virginity, Mind Break, Multi, Nonconcensual sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Porn With Plot, Psychological issues, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Spanking, Violent Sex, Watersports, eventual love, ropes and ball gags, rough anal sex, smut starts in chp. 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-07-02 04:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15789162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingmiikncookies29/pseuds/rainingmiikncookies29
Summary: You are a scavenger, after fallout you and your mother are forced to hide in the desert for safety.Once she dies; you have to find for yourself. A story about drugs, love, murder and psychological damage.Chp.6 onwards will be in different POV! No longer in 2nd person. Main character is now named and has a appearanceNew sister blog:rainingmiikfiction.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be long, like very long. I’m trying my best! Please give feedback if you can!

Your feet burned under the desolate sand of the waste land. The intense heat penetrated the weak rubber soles of your shoes. Every step becoming more antagonizing as salty sweat poured down your heated skin. 

‘Fuck!’ You moaned. Hidden in the sand was a small trap, handmade but wrapped around your ankle tightly. 

This wasn’t your first time scavenging this long abandoned buildings. More times than you could count, you traveled the scorching hot dunes for anything to eat. Each time barely scraping up a expired cookie bar or half a pint of fresh water. 

Water... the mire thought had your throat swallowing dry saliva. You needed something desperately—and fast.

Carrying your empty backpack the orange horizon bellowed with the heat. You mind wondered to the time before.

At 11 years of age, nuclear fallout had erupted. The wars had gotten to all time high, with the final trigger being the death of the United Nations president. All precautions were thrown away, as atomic bombs hit every continent. The damage was horrific, half the nation was quarantined for toxic levels radiation. Naturally, there was safe refugee camps, but eventually that fell too. 

Now, you are 22 years of age, scouting the last few areas clear enough of radiation for food and water to survive. That meaning your sick mother too. 

Bedredden by radiation poisoning side effects, she didn’t have long. Often times when your returned from your outings she had passed out from heat exhaustion, her pillow red with blood. 

You had remembered the times before where she would sing in the kitchen, dancing around with your father. Her long brown hair flowing in the wind. Somehow she always smelled of black raspberrys. And her beauty unlike anyother. Soft evergreen eyes framed by her heart shape face, you found yourself often jealous of her. Yourself looking more like your father. 

Currently, your mother was a ghost of herself. Hair once long and silky, was now uneven and wiry. Poison had taken everything for her; including your father. 

Shorty after refugee camps had opened, your father had volunteered to rescue those still out there. The lives he saved were countless but he couldn’t save his own. 

Raiders, those who stole for themselves and killed those in their way had taken his life. Something your mother never quite healed from. Sometimes when you were on the cusp of sleep, you’d hear here murmur his name sullenly. 

After months of this, you stopped sleeping sleeping soundly, dreams of your father being stabbed over and over agian woke you up in a cold sweat. The result was dark eye bags that would never vanish. Psychologically, you were damaged. Fearing every stranger was a raider, or a theft or worse. 

The world had turned into kill or be killed. When you and your mother escaped a raider outhold, you caught wind of a prostitution, drug ring. Hundreds of women and girls, pumped full or narcotics and raped by thousands of brutal men. It made you sick. How could a human being be reduced to such savagery. 

This is why you held outpost in the desert, far away from any possibility of danger. 

Then you made your routine: go out at nighttime, check the drug store, small supermarket, and the old saloon. If you had time you’d check the bookstore for some novels. Reading had always been a favorite pass time for you, before fallout you practically lived at the library. The old dusty smell of books reminded you of your father. His husky voice but gentle eyes as he looked down at you. 

‘Fucking thing!’ Untying the homemade trap worried you, that hadn’t been there last week. You knew somebody was around. 

Finally loose of it, you ran to the drug store. Stubborn sand particles weasled their way into your shoes, digging inbetween your toes. 

The drug store was relatively small. Once a family business, was now a ransacked glorified rat hotel. Upon Entering there was a small newspaper stand to the right, the other side was old worn cushioned chairs. They coated with cobwebs and rusted. Directly in the middle was three shelves, one knocked over. Some shelfs were in place while others hung down cadicornered. The floor was disgusting, yellow pees stains, fecal pellets from rats and empty pill bottles. Not mentioning the pungent sour trash smell throughout the entire store.

The first time you seen this you had vomitted, the little you had eaten all over the vile floor. Since then your stomach had became iron, not even the smell of urine bothered you. 

Lifting a careful foot over the rag poop and piss, you walked to the pharmacy in the back. It was here you looked for anything to help your mother. Reaching for the first thing that looked no more expired by three years, you shook the bottle. 

Rapid sounds of pills thrashed against the plastic. You smiled and threw it inside your bag. Whatever was on the wrapping had long since faded away, but you couldn’t chance not trying it. She was going to die.

Rounding around to the back your finger tips grazed each other one, all empty. 

You had to choke back a sob, it was devastating losing your father, you wouldn’t lose her too. 

Frenzied, you pushed all the bottles off the shelves, trying to heat for any sort of jingle. You heard nothing. 

Your heart started to race, cheeks flush and fingers trembling, fat tears ran down. You wanted to pull your hair from its roots, rip your skin from the muscles, anything to stop your frantic mind from caving in on itself. 

Your panic attack were violent. The scars on your arm showed the sheer magnitude of it. You weren’t proud of this but it was how you coped. With the death of your father, you had locked yourself away with a knife. The way the blood pooled and dripped down the side had consoled you more than your mother ever could. It was now a habit, every time something happened you drew another line on your skin, the stinging pain washing away every doubt you had. It was like a drug, you never got high on, never overdosed from. 

“What the fuck what that?”

A raspy voice alerted you. Slowly moving back on your hands and knees your peeked over the edge of the counter. 

A man with a sawed off shotgun stood at the entrance. He had salt and pepper hair with a short messy beard.. Bushy eyebrows furrowed in a scowl above his cloudy grey eyes, and cracked thin lips. His head was atleast two inches from the top of the doorway, massive figure you could see even covered by a long filthy coat, holey wifebeater shirt and combat pants. He had on black boots, dirtied by hot orange sand. 

To your left was another, not nearly as menacing. Tall but lean, his shaggy hair hung down to his shoulders clearly not been washed in the last few months. A round oval face with ash brown eyes, long thin nose and dry lips. Licking them once you saw his dark pink tongue. His clothes were equally dirty, long sleeve black shirt and well used grey slacks.

The last you could see was to your right. Short brown hair, he seemed to be the youngest. He had average build but solid. Sky blue eyes, large nose and plump baby lips. His face was expressionless, almost bored seemingly. He was zipping up his aged leather jacket, large hands struggled to find the zipper.

Ducking back down you strained to here thier conversation, knowing they were raiders.


	2. Raider Stronghold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has been caught by raiders, she must use her intelligence and skills to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I’m working really hard with this! 
> 
> As I myself have bipolar depression, the depictions of readers panic attacks, and mental instability closely mirror my own. This is not meant to offend anyone.
> 
> Plus, the Drug usage and alcohol will be from my imagination, having never tried it myself.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!

“There’s nobody here, Bill.” 

You didn’t know who said that but had the inclination that it was the one with long hair. The other didn’t particularly seem very chatty.

Under the counter, you muffled your breathing with a palm shakily. You knees knocked into one another.

“Bullshit, something set off the trap. There are goddamn footprints leading here!” 

Your eyes widen to saucers, you were right! That trap hadn’t been there before. You blindly lead them directly to you. 

Aggressively you heard lazy footsteps kick pill bottles, moving further to the pharmacy.

Your world was spinning, blurred from tears and static. Every step you heard drove you closer into a mental hazy. Flashing over the dreams of your father being stabbed, the blood soaking his flannel shirt, how his face was twisted in imperceptible agony. 

A pair boots was a directly infront of you. Rat shit, urine and sand was mixed on the bottom.

Your eyes followed them to were you had knocked over the shelf. Whoever it was, their hands were a tanned white, hairy knuckles with thin fingers, the nails bitten down to the nub and the tips were smired black in color.

As he crouched to pick up a bottle, dark long filthy hair fell over his face. A Stubby hand rummaged to the his back pocket to fetch a lighter. 

“Hm. This is strange.” His voice was drunk a bit nasally.

Watching him light his paper -whatever-, your mind was melting. Pure fear and uncertainty shook you, wondering if these were the same raiders you and your mother ran from all those years ago.

You’d rather die than go back, they are vile inhuman creatures. Attacking other groups of survivors, selling women, and drugs all for caps! During the night your mother had snuck out with you, never to return. 

You hadn’t noticed the half hidden face looking at you until his thick fingers curled around the counter, pressing into the rotten wood, creating a light creaking sound. 

Your entire body shook violently, the blue eyes staring right threw you. Even upside down he held no expression. You pleaded with your eyes, shaking your head begging him to stay quiet.

“What you find boy?” Snapping your neck, the shaggy hair one bent down to you. The earthy aroma of sandlewood exuding from the rolled joint.

“Look’a here. Got ourselves a girl, Bill!” 

He gave a wide creepy smile, his breathe stunk of liquor. What you couldn’t see before now was too close. Crows feet at the ends of his eyes making him appear to be much older than he probably was. Unshaven stubble with recent little bloody nicks. 

His eyes were unashamed to look at your flimsy figure, moving from your face, to chest, hips, uncovered legs, and back. Disgust ached your stomach, if you had eaten in the last three days you’d vomit. 

“Got somebody with ya?” He never looked in your eyes as he asked, just ogled your tits. 

You narrowed your eyes, teeth in a locked clench. Then he raised a scwany hand gripped your jaw, squeezing his finger tips painfully. Thrashing, kicking your booted feet and trying to claw his eyes out, your mouth opened to clamp down hard on his hand. 

He jerked his hand, cradling the appendage carefully. 

You had almost laughed, the blood was sliding down his fingers to the rancid floor. 

“Can’t handle a girl?” Another one asked, heavy footsteps approached. 

“The bitch bit me!” 

These boot were different: a bigger size, a bit more cleaner but the tips were red, what you assumed to be blood.

As he kneeled down, your eyebrows furrowed. Three. All your combat skills was now useless. Without your gun, knife or a meele weapon, you were a sitting duck. 

Being closer this ‘Bill’ guy looked 20 years older than you. Though he wasn’t smiling he looked amused, a frustrating smirk plastered on his face. Forearms resting on his thighs, and one hand holding his gun. His his fingers were thick, the left middle had a ring untanned, possibly for his missing wedding ring.

He eyed you in similar fashion, glancing over your curves, and ran his tongue over thin lips. 

“You got a group?” He asked, apparently everyone had a bottle of liquor today. 

You didn’t answer just pulled your lips taunt. They were never going to find your mother, she was all you had. 

“You a mute, girl?” With no precaution, he tapped a finger on your knee, burning to the touch.

You flinched back, folding into yourself. All raiders were repulsive rapists, you were sure. At the old stronghold while you were not of age for prostitution, your mother had sold herself to keep you safe. Many nights you heard your mother crys, moans and screams. She tried to hide it the best she could but the brusies were there under her clothes, around her neck. Often she went days limping, and drugged up. Sometimes she couldn’t even recognize you.

“Don’t like that, huh? I bet you’d sell for alot.” 

Rage. It boiled from your toes to your ears. You knew of sex, but had never experienced anything of the sort. Your mother had made sure of that. Of course as a child you had been curious, at the age of 5 having witnessed your mother giving head to your father in their room. You had seen your first dick, and had been intrigued, confused, and embarrassed as your father moaned. 

This wasn’t like that, you felt nothing but revolted by his light touch. So you instinctively pulled your hand back to slap it across his face as hard as gravity allowed. 

“You fucking bitch!” The long haired raider wrung a hand around your ankle and pulled downwards hard. 

His sweaty callous hands twisted around your bicep, so forceful, your throat released a high sounding wine.

“Guess you can talk.” Bill said rising to his full height. The side of his cheek was a tiny of red, still he smirked.

“Tie her up, takin’ her to the compost. Maybe ill tame her there.” His grey eyes were threatening, like before a thunderstorm. 

“Good. That’ll teach you!” The one holding you turned you over carelessly, wrenching your hands together and wrapped some cloth around them. 

You looked to the silent one, he hadn’t moved from his spot, just watching emotionlessly. You could see that he was more build then you thought. His muscle bulging against the leather, looked firm to the touch. If the world hadn’t gone to shit, you’d think he handsome, everything about his face being easy on the eyes. 

Though you’d never would have actively sought him. Your body being too curvy, too skinny, too broad in some areas and thin in another. Mostly it was your mind that was unreliable, far too chaotic-a maze with no exit. 

“Help me tie, her boy!” Parallel to a fish, you squirmed against the material cuffs. Weak grunts leaving your windpipe every time he pushed your chest onto the ground. 

“...Tie her around the mouth too.” 

You wanted to blow your head off then, the first words ‘boy’ had said practically yelling he wasn’t kind nor a possible person to help you. 

He did, the cloth torn fast inbetween your upper and lower jaw and tied behind your head, restricting your lips from closing. 

“Mmfff-heee!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. 

‘Bill’ had picked up your bag, looking thoughout it contents. The mush that was your brain went into overdrive, supply adrenaline to to limbs you couldn’t use and skyrocketing your heart beat. 

“Seems, like there’s something she’s hiding. Put her in the truck.” Bill had throw your bag over his shoulder, eyes glued to where your chest poked out as you were lifted.

Thin and lean as he was; long-haired raider carried you with ease. His hands purposefully under your tits, and around your ass as he dragged you to their vehicle. 

Dust, sand and heat smacked your face once Bill had opened the drug store cracked glass door. Somehow it had gotten even hotter during your time within there. 

The raiders had parked thier truck right at the entrance, a giant dirt coated Ford F-150. The tailgate was missing and one door had a sizable dent in it. 

“Put her in the back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Bill is a universal evil name. Atleast for me. If your name is Bill I’m sure your a outstanding citizen! Haha.


	3. Bill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the compound, Reader discovers more about its inhabitants, and learning the layout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m fully fleshing this out! Making blueprints, character profiles! I’m excited! Thanks for reading!

The asshole threw you aboard with a loud thump. Hitting your nose on the mud caked tire well, a drop blood escaping. As the long-haired one and the silent one jumped in back, the truck moved slightly.

“Feisty one, aren’t’ca?” Bills voice reverberated from the open window. 

If your hands were free you would have flipped him off, instead you gave him a cold scowl. Unsure if he saw from the rear view mirror, you tried to wiggle closer.

The engine was ridiculously loud, the vibration knocked you over. 

How the hell did they even have gas, anyway? Your small black and silver a.t.v had ran out months ago. There wasn’t a spot in this godforsaken desert you haven’t looked for some. It was entirely possible they stole some from another group. That’s how many raider camps acquired thier goods; find the weak points, kill the leader, and take everything not bolted down. Done at night, the groups never seen it coming.

“Whoa, careful there.” 

Long-Haired raider pushed your shoulders back up, sitting you against the sliding rear window. You winced at your aching biceps. 

Dust, sand and gravel whipped as the wheels rolled on the dry land. Flakes kicked into you eyes, causing your body to jerk uncontrollably, the silent one watched closely. 

The further away your vision got from the drug store, dire dread and worry widespread across your mind. Deep self-harming thoughts whispered aloud to you. The scars were gracefully hidden behind your long sleeves, but the impulse to reopen healed cuts was unbearable. The idea of your mother dieing alone, in a shabby shingle shack; was a pure nightmare for you, having never said goodbye. 

“So, where you from girl?” 

Long-Haired raider irritated you, his nasally southern accent voice felt like listening to nails on chalkboard. You couldn’t even answer if you wanted to anyway.

“Converse? That’s radded’ to shit but...we been checking ‘round here a while. Today’s must be our lucky day!” 

Narrowing your eyes, you frowned intensely. If he moved to the left one inch, you boot would meet his nuts, hopefully.

They did, and the feeling of your toe cap pounding on his testicles was comforting. Yelling at a high octave, he bellowed forward, two stubby hands over his crotch , all the blood at his face, and probably killing you with his eyes. 

“What the fuck happened?!” Bill turned back, one hand stretched over the passenger seat, driving completely too fast. 

“...she kicked Jeff in the nuts.” 

Silent raider voice was way to deep for his age, (you guessed around your age) still expressionless but somehow he seemed entertained. 

“Shhhiitt.” 

Bill laughed till your ears rung, dropping his lead foot even lower.

“Just wait till we get to the compound, bitch.” ‘Jeff’ leaned to whisper in your ear, spitting his liquor drunk saliva. 

You tried to headbutt him, when his tongue traced a sickening line from lobe to helix. His vile body was a bit out of range for it.

* * *

Their compound seemed to be on the edge of the city. From you could see, the tall buildings of downtown was still blurry from distance. Meaning that your shack had to be 30 miles out, and the drug store about 22.

You hadn’t seen the city for the past 4 years. Most states was fattened by the bombs, whatever remained was radioactive, and inhabitable. 

Downtown was your home before fallout, a small townhouse across from a park. Your mother worked at a small bakery as a cake decorated. Your father worked at a bank. News stations, local newspapers, and social media had advised to take shelter in a bunker at school, or underground. Your family had evacuated at a government facility, for two years nobody was allowed to the surface. Once radiation was at a not deadly reasonable level, everything had changed.

At 13, you had no home, no friends, nothing. The Govenment facility camp turned unstable as food and water became scarce. Eventually, people left, some forced to, others outright killed themselves as news came that everyone in the city died, it being too radioactive, and would be for the next 300 years. 

Not long after your father caught wind of a survivors stronghold, they had food, water, medication. It was good for a while, before raiders had killed him, basically everyone in camp. Your mother, you, and all the women were taken to a raider compound.

This was the worse memory of your entire life, next to seeing your mother’s abuse.

The truck pulled up to a barbed wire fence gate, guarded by two men and two massive dogs. 

Pets were also another thing radiation had drastically killed. Dogs, cats, small animals, reptiles, livestock, all found dead. You had thought they were extinct, you last pet you saw being skinned for its meat.

These dogs weren’t anything normal, essentially mutantized. Snarling, angrily barking, teeth sharp as knives; they’re attack dogs. 

You moved frighteningly to the right, away from the guard with just a chain leash. The mutt looked right at you growling, desperate to rip your head off.

“We found a girl, taken here to get check out.” Bill told the one to the left, he had on the same combat pants and boots, but a plain grey t-shirt, with a loaded AK-47. His blond brow was sweaty, stubble wild as weeds, and dark brown eyes. 

He looked you over once, curious but on duty. He lifted a walkie-talkie into view.

“Bills here, let’em in.” Seemed he was a smoker too.

A buzzing sound and a release, the doors opened slowly. Bill drove beyond the gate, you were able to see next to the gate was a tall brick wall, professionally made. On the left and right was watch towers with machine guns on the sides. Two people you couldn’t see was stood at the top. 

“I’ll take ‘er to see the doc, Bill” 

Jeff was pulling you towards him, before he was even out the car. You flailed outwards, landing a good hit with a heel on his chest. 

“Jeff, I’m going to take her.” Bill shoved him away, grasping your upper arm where it hurt the most. Turning his neck, he looked to silent raider. 

“AllStar, tell Nixon we found somebody.” 

Constantly, he didn’t respond just leaped over the bed, walking towards some building. 

Off the truck, you saw this compound was much bigger than the old one. In front of you was a red brick building, had no identification markings but had numerous people going in and out. To the left was the biggest architecture, red with two stories and massive double doors. Next to that was a smaller place, red brick, black metal door. Behind was two identical buildings, one a kitchen and the other a bar judging by the signs.

You couldn’t believe your eyes, not only did they have enough food and water, they had a doctor. 

Raider camps usually had a lot of resources, often using caps as currency, it is so wide spread, most sellers use caps too.

Your old compound never had this amount of people, weapons or goods. This must be the biggest one.

“Come on, Bill!” Jeff wouldn’t let up, he yanked on your other arm he bruised.

“Jeff, go wash your hair, it fucking reeks.” You never heard his response as Bill dragged you by the arms. The ground was covered in rocks and little bits of sand.

He stopped at the place with the black metal door, hitting a heavy hand three times. The way he held your arms, you knew he was intentionally hurting you. As you jerked around, his solid body wasn’t moving a inch. He smirked down at you. 

“A new one?” 

The unknown shaky voice turned your attention, a man with no hair studied you. He was shorter than Bill but taller than Jeff, tanned skin from the sun, had on a dirty doctor coat with the name ‘T.Matthews’ on it. He wasn’t too old, perhaps 50ish though his face had many lines and wrinkles. They smell of medical sterilization came off his person. 

“Yeah, dunno’ her name, she won’t talk.”

“Perhaps it’s the mouth gag?” 

Bill didn’t laugh, just shoved you pass him. The pungent Stench of blood, rubbing alcohol, and sex burned your nose. It looked bigger on the outside, three rows of hospital beds were lined on the wall. To the right was a make-shift doctor desk, littered with papers, and medical books. In the back was some blocked dark red door.

One bed had someone on it. Bill layed you on the beside her. The moment you saw her you wanted to cry.

She looked so malnourished, her ribs poked out by the sides. Pale skin, a rainbow of different colored bruises and cuts. Her face nearly double in size, both eyes black and swollen. Her lips were cracked and hair was spread around her. Worse; between her legs were blood, and dried cum. They hadn’t even clean her. 

“Check the rad levels, then I’ll see to her training.” 

Bill stayed leaning against the wall, staring at you, you caught the slightest hand shake of a alcoholic. This was something you had seen very often, even before fallout, your father had liked the bottle. The smell of bourbon made you think of him.

“I’m going to remove the mouth gag, okay?” 

You sat in rage, the second it was removed you were going to run.

“Wait, tie her hands to the post. She’s wild y’see.” 

Bill pushed you onto your stomach and removed the restraints. The cloth had left a anger red rash around your wrists. Then tied them agian with some ziptie. 

“Okay, I need you to nod, if you can understand me” Doctor Matthews carefully said. 

You nodded, yanking on the zipties. As he removed the cloth, your jaw ached awfully, and a fistful of drool following. 

Matthews sat beside your legs, his hands also didn’t have hair, thin and nails uncut. 

“What’s your name?” 

Your eyes snapped to Bill, his smirk ever apparent. You wanted to spit right in his twisted face. The look he gave you were the same ones your mother had seen before they repeatedly raped her. Every time she called your fathers name. 

“Y/N” You said your voice was weak and raspy. Another panic attack right on the tip. 

“Wow, what a cute voice.” 

Bill stepped closer, right up to your face. His liquor breath burning your eyes.

“Love to ‘ear it screamn’ my name.” Bill laughed.

“Screw you!” You yelled, the zipties close to dislocating your wrist. 

“See if she’s a virgin, doc. She’ll sell for a fortune.” 

Your panic attack had fully arrived, pushing bile into your throat. A loud ringing sound from inside your head. The need to hurt yourself choking your conscious. 

“That’s enough, Bill.”

Doctor Matthews flattened his lips to a line, once friendly looking, now very upset. Bill frowned at the doctor, his hands clenched together.

“Just do it, Theodore.”

Bill bent back up, and walked to the cluttered desk his boots sticking on something from the floor. When he turned he had a part of scissors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a descriptive chap. The caps currency is from fallout, I got a lot of ideas from there. The city is a mix of New York (skyscrapers) Texas (the layout and weather depictions) and Nevada (the desert, how they get water)
> 
> I wanted to make it longer, but I didn’t want it too long.


	4. Training, Nixon and Prices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The raiders set a price on readers body, showing her how the rules work and what exactly is training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m learning how to write better slowly. It’s no the best but I’m pleased with it.
> 
> ⚠️ There will be graphic depictions of date rape, and female degradation.⚠️
> 
>  
> 
> Next chap will be the beginning of the smut.

Broken from reason unknown, only one half remained. Bill was handling it similar to a knife. 

“Are you going to cut her shorts off?” 

Matthews stood up, his walk was quick close to a run. Taking the broken scissor, He threw it into a small bin next to the desk. 

“The Fuck you doin’? She’s gonna put sommin’ else on anyway.” Bill paraded over to you, reaching for your donut blue jeans shorts button. 

Terrified, your autopilot mind kicked your legs at him, flailing your whole body till you had no energy left.

“Have’n fun?”

Bills grey eyes where dancing across your face, loving the fear he invoked in you.

You bit your tongue so hard, copper flooded the taste buds. He wasn’t going to get a reaction, you weren’t going to cry because of him. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you heard and felt the pop/release of your shorts. You tried to dissociate yourself, thinking of your favorite memory; which was around 2 years old.

It was your first visit to the zoo, your father held your small stubby hand waiting for a turn to pet the baby Billy goats. The smell of fresh poop, popcorn and your mother’s perfume was in the air. When you first saw the goat, fear kept you around your fathers leg he tried to pull you away as your eyes started to water. His hairy giant hand took yours, petting the top of the smallest ones head. You’ve never touched something so soft, but coarse at the same time.

Bill hastily pulled them to your ankles, bringing your light pink panties into view. They had holes and different stains from sweating.

“Now an’t that a bitch? Your just like candy: bitter on the outside, sweet in the middle.”

He moved around to split your knees apart, keeping his eyes on your underwear.

“You sick rapist, piece of shit!” Your voice screamed at it highest possible volume, hoping you’d piss Bill off.

“From a mute to a fuckn’ chatter box.” 

His sweaty musty hand fitted over your nose and mouth, muffling your vulgar cursing. Matthews came back over squatting between your thighs. His eyes square on your mound. 

“I’m just going to put a finger in, that’s all.” 

That didn’t provide relief to you at all, being fingered by some rapist you just met, tangled your unstable mind further. A rapid blush grew on your ears as he pulled the hem back and slowly joining them with your shorts.

“Never shaved girl?” 

“I don’t think items to shave with out there, Bill.” 

Humiliation, and shame turned your eyes away. Dr.Matthews was correct, there was never anything to shave with, and the sharp objects you did have were to cut your arms or for rummaging purposes. So you had a good little bush around your pussy. 

“You’ll get cleaned up later. Nixon will show you.” Matthews said putting on a blue latex glove.

Your eyes were a traitor, tears reluctantly fell onto Bills hand down to the pillow. Matthews thin fingers slid in with resistance, sharp stabbing pain erupted a muffled scream within you. He pushed further until he felt your intact hymen, pushing slightly and wiggling his finger. Other than pain, it just felt uncomfortable and sickening. There was a wet sound as he pulled his finger out.

“She is a virgin.”

Bill let your mouth go to clap obnoxiously. Dirty boot scrapping the floor with a drag. 

“Bill, why don’t you get her some food? She’s underweight. I can tell.” Matthews moved to throw the glove away. 

Bills silver-black eyebrows frowned a bit, but he complied. 

“Fine. Need to see that sonofbitch’ anyway.” 

He looked at you briefly, something obviously on his mind, before throwing the metal door open and slamming it shut. 

Matthews took three steps to you, pulling your panties and shorts up, then leaned over to cut the zipties, being very careful not to touch you.

“Do not be afraid, I will not hurt you.” 

You scoffed, turning to the girl beside you. 

“What about her?” 

Matthews looked hesitant, opening his mouth to then close it. His mind seemly far away, remembering something unpleasant. 

“She’s...someone who didn’t follow the rules.” His eyes looked directly into yours.

“We have rules, it keeps everything in order. Might not make sense now, but you’ll learn.” 

You rubbed your raw wrists, purple and green bruises dotted around them.

“I don’t want to get use to anything—” chewing your lip, your mind was a buzz about your mother. 

“Why are you so nice?” You whispered.

He was the only one that hadn’t tried to get into your pants since you arrived.

“I-I’m not very interested in that sort of things. My tastes lie else where.” His tanned ears were dark red, embrassment all over his features. 

You frowned in misunderstanding, a raider not into prostituting women was a fish uninterested with water. Unless...

“You like men?”

The question flew from your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

Nail hit right on the head, his whole entire bald cranium turned the same dark red color. His eyes almost popping from their sockets.

“No! I-I just-” 

Bill broke in with a loud thud, his hands holing a bowl of something, water and a broken piece of baguette. 

“It’s beef stew for today and some fuckn’ fancy piece of bread.” 

The aroma from the stew made your mouth water. For the last 5 years or so, your breakfast was a couple of cereal bars, lunch a energy bar or beans, and dinner was anything you could find, you don’t even remember what real food tasted like.

Taking water, you downed it in one glup. It felt like holy water, giving life to your Sahara esophagus. The beef stew you ate like a caveman, scooping it up with your dirty hands, leaving no piece of meat, potatoe, or onion uneaten. The brothy sauce, you licked up until the bowl was clean. Either side of your lips were covered in brown leftovers.

“Hungry huh? Here have the bread.” Bill held it out, as one would do a dog for a treat. You baled your hands into a fist, the nails digging crescent moons into the palms. 

“Go fuck yourself.” You mused, energy restored.

“What a little Bull, your sho’ different. You hairy little bull.”

Red embarrassment flashed over your face, the self conscious image you held yourself to, only added to the feelings he hurt. 

“Aw, did I hurt your feelins’?” 

Matthews blocked Bills hand from touching you. Both scowling at each other.

Two loud raps against the door took everyone’s attention. One massive combat boot entered with a massive body.

Another man, but he was huge, ducking just to get pass the door. Bigger than Bill, Matthews-everyone. He had on the same camo-combat clothes on, and a few dog tags hung from his necklace. Big hands were in a fist, next to his .45 gun holster, his left ring finger had a engagement ring on it, and around the curve of his shirt you could see his brown chest hair. Body built for war, his arms had many scars on it, some old and new. It was his face that puzzled you, he wasn’t young but not old. Perhaps Bills age without the greying. White skin, Short sticky hair with side burns layed in his head, and his eyes were blue like silent raider. 

“This her?” 

His voice was deep and serious. Had a up north accent.

“Yeah, She’s a little bull, Nix. I’d watch her.” 

Bill stood next to ‘Nix’ one hand on his shoulder, for some reason they didn’t seem to be friends.

“Names Nixon, come with me.”

Nixon shoved Bills hand away to wrench your arm up, his whole hand wrapped around your wrist. His fingernails were clean and well manicured. 

He took you out the medical building, Matthews and Bill face disappeared behind the door. The sun was still beating harsh rays, Nixon hand was sweating on yours.

“H-Hey, I need to leave. I can’t stay here!” You pulled on his arm, twisting your wrists. His hold never let up, and neither did his walking, every one step for him was two steps for you.

“We have rules, it be wise for you to follow them. From Matthews examination, we can set a price for you. Until then nobody will touch you, unless it’s special situation. You can try to buy yourself by working but that takes a while, of course we have different things that varys in price.”

His yapping went in one ear out the other, you were to busy trying to wiggle out his iron grip.

“We have mandatory ‘training’ for new girls, to present you to potential buyers. Keep in mind that some things lower your price, I.e age, weight, how pure you are.”

He stopped at a door, looking at you. Your had started to sweat again, it stuck to your hair and skin. You were in rage, so you kicked up loose gravel at him.

“I don’t care what you sickos do! I need to leave.” 

You lungs were on fire breathing in the heat, the feeling of being a hooked fish crossed your mind. 

“Why?”

One eyebrow raised in shock,, you were uncertain if you should tell. However you had no other choices, he had to be better than Bill.

“My mother, she’s dieing.” The tears fell anew as you considered him. 

“I’ll send Bill.” 

He opened the door, immediately a Smokey, tabacco smell escaped, so thick you could barley see inside. 

“NO!” The sound echoed off the brick walls, strangers turned to you and Nixon. 

“Then it’s not important.” 

“You asshole! I swear to god!” 

“God not here, we are get inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m debating on putting period play, I’m not sure if that going too far. Although, it’s gonna get pretty messed up later. Should I?


	5. The Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader experiences her first drug trip and AllStar appears again, giving her a big surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yo! I’m really having a lot of fun with this. I’ve got lots of nasty smut ideas for our poor reader, but don’t worry she’s learning more about herself than we think. 
> 
> Also this story will get more nonconsentual from here on out.

As soon as Nixon forced you in, you heard the obscene moans of the other girls, grunts of men, and some screams too. The very screams that haunted you dreams for years.

The building was packed, to the left was a woman with her lips wrapped around a small dick. The whites of her eyes were extremely red, you guessed, she was high. Looking to the right a large round table was surrounded by people smoking something from a bong, several puffs of the substance blew up as the source of the heavy cloud. Just breathing it in made your head foggy. 

“Down the stairs.” 

Nixon held a colossal hand on the small of you back, guiding though the smoke. As you walked, even more moans came from behind the doors at towards the back. You were thankful they were closed.

Whatever sticky liquid on the stairs stuck to your boots as you descended. Unlike above ground, the area was clear but had the same tabacco stench overwhelm your sense of smell. Down a long hallway was 3 doors, all brown in color though different in design. Nixon stopped at the last one, pushing you inside.

Tripping over your own feet, you landed and bounced on the queen sized bed, like laundry detergent. The room was very small, the piss-yellow bed taking most of the space. An old peeling dresser was the only other piece of furniture.

Turning to the left you watched Nixon lock the door with exploding anger. Your mind was so full of chaos; the feeling to hurt, to get hurt, threw your fists on his back. When he turned, you aimed to scratch his eyes out, or at least satisfy the need to see skin bleed.

It was a fury, you felt distant as you screamed the sound was foreign, keen to out of body experience. Nixon powerful hands knocked your body down on the bed; his body sinking the mattress dramatically, holding you in a headlock. 

“I don’t like this any more than you do. Trying to hurt me won’t solve anything.

“Could have fooled me.” You said out of breath.

“If I let go, you won’t attack me?” 

His northern voice was right in your ear, the prickles of his beard tickling a bit.

“I won’t.” You used up all the energy the beef stew gave you, anger was turning into sadness.

He let you up slowly, backing toward the dresser but his eyes never left yours. The weight of your mother, Bills perversions, your ‘selling price’ was hitting you from all angles. Weak was something you’d never consider yourself as, even with a unstable mind, but at this moment it was all you felt. The tears you tried so hard to hide, fell continuously. Little hiccups broke as you sobbed, breathing becoming difficult.

“Hey-don’t...right?”

You squinted through tears, Nixon’s massive figure coming in and out of view.

“Can...me?”

Shaking your head, the ringing from earlier came back, you couldn’t breathe.

“...down...Hey!”

Everything went black.

* * *

“Y/N?”

You looked up to your fathers face, the gray of his beard was a wet shiny brown, his lidded eyes trying to focus. He had on a big goofy Santa costume, with you on his lap and a glass of bourbon, his hands shaking slightly. A new Barbie doll was in your tiny hands, it was the one you had asked Santa for.

“Look outside.” Your father pointed to the window. It was the first snow of the year, also the first snow you’ve ever seen. The scent of Pinecones, retro holiday music, and the warm glow of the fireplace rung through the house. 

Smiling at the winter wonderland, imaging the snowman you were going to make, you felt a hand snake under your red and green dress. Thick hairy fingers traced the hem of your toddler panties.

Confused, your head turned to look up, who once was your father was now Bill. He smirked at your hungryly, sipping the alcohol.

“Little Bull.” He said.

* * *

You woke up jerking into a sitting position, disturb by the dream. His fingers had been so real, the feeling of callous tips pressing agianst you still was present. 

Then sharp pain on your right forearm. Your sleeves were up and there was a needle inside the vein, leading up to a hanging bag of some clear fluid. The feeling of panic rose agian, your mind instantly on what they smoked upstairs, fearing it was some type of drug.

You reached to grab the needle, but Dr.Matthews walked in. His eyes snapped to your hands.

“Don’t. Pull it out the wrong was could burst the vein.”

Your clenched your jaw. Dr.Matthews has showed to be somewhat kind, it spurred hesitantance within you.

“It’s just saline water, you passed out of dehydration and heat exhaustion. You’ve been out for half the day.” 

He crossed the room to you, the lab coat he had on was wrinkled and his face was flushed. With precision he removed the needle. The stainless steel was coated red, it gave you pleasure to see your blood.

“Did you see?” You asked quietly. Your self-inflicted scars weren’t a torphy your wore, it felt and was personal. Only meant for your eyes.

Dr.Matthews turned his eyes down, he pitted you.

“How you cope with things are no business of mine. They will lower your price though.

He pulled out a sand-brown ace wrap, and unrolled it.

“Please, let me out. I have to leave!” 

Gripping his hand, it was cold contrary to the hot room. He paused to look at you.

“Do you want to be like her in the medical ward? If not, follow the rules. I also hate this...but we don’t have a choice.”

Rotating his neck, he faced the door.

“AllStar! Come in, she’s awake.” You yanked your arm away, other than Dr.Matthews you didn’t trust anyone.

“He will not hurt you.”

“I’m sure.” 

The remark was sarcastic, Dr.Matthews eyebrow twitched but ignored it. His gauze wrap was rounded tight. 

‘AllStar’ came in silently. He wore the same as he did yesterday, carrying a tray with a kettle and a brown homemade clay cup. Which he sat down next to you. The tea smelled like leamon leaves and something else earthy. As he handed you a cup, you took it without preamble. 

Sweet and a bit bitter, the brew went down your gullet lukewarm.

“What type of tea is this? How do you get all this water?” You asked licking the residue from your lips.

“...we get the water from the mountains, through a purification system. And the tea is oolong mixed with a libido facilitation drug.” 

The pleasing warmth of the tea turned cold, your hands automatically threw the cup down, breaking it into little pieces. 

“How could you! Stupid dung pile!” Leaping from under the stained blanket, Dr.Matthews held you back around your waist. You thrashed until you were panting, suddenly feeling weak.

“I told AllStar to bring it. I need to test your orgasms. It’s another contribution to your selling price.”

Your limbs fell heavy, shivering in hot need, your throat felt choked, panting harder.

“AllStar is good at bringing women to orgasm. The drug will wear off by then too. It should be pleasurable.” 

Dr.Matthews released you, letting AllStar taking his place. His hands stung as he touched you all over. Making no notes of the scars on your arms.

You fought against the increasing pleasure. You had no experiences when it came to you having sex, often times your wet dreams involved your parents or recalled the men you secretly watched rape your mother. It was sick, you had been aroused at the sight and when you pictured a dick, it was your fathers.

This part of you made you fear the act of sex, a forbidden fruit, asking to be eaten. 

AllStar unbottoned your shorts roughly. Pleasure spiked wetting your cunt, and replayed your mother’s screams in your head.

The hot air hit your mound, the pink swollen clit in full view. 

“N-no, please.” 

You begged, a weak hand pushed on AllStar smooth hair, he ignored your pleas moving his face down closer. A long slick tongue licked over the lips once and tapped your clit. You screamed in pleasure, having never had a orgasm, every nerve ending was and highten by the drug. 

AllStar wrapped his big hands around your thighs, dragging you back so he could be on his knees. Licking, sucking and biting the skin, you couldn’t your moans. 

He pushed in his wet muscle the furthest he could and wiggled it, then sucked on one side of your lips to the other. After the skin turned a reddish color he’d roll the clit around his tongue to suck roughly. 

Dr.Matthews sat there taking notes you couldn’t see. The entire room you couldn’t really see, your eyelids were shut, lulling your head to the right.

You moaned loudly as when AllStar pushed your bra over your tits, pinching the nipple hard to pull it.

The pain felt so good, better than cutting yourself, than anything. You had deserved this, the pain you were sick and needed to be punish.

“Hurt me more.”

You didn’t know you moaned this, the drug filled every other sense but pleasure. 

AllStar did bit your lips unrelenting, your screams never slowing him down. Pushing you closer and closer. Your skin was blazing hot, an aching pulsation between your legs. 

“I-I’m gonna pee, s-stop.” 

The feeling was intense building up rapidly.

“That’s what it feels like to be close. It’s not pee.” Dr.Matthews voice was far and echoing. 

You exploded. A crash of pleasure and wetness pooled under you. You convulsed uncontrollably, the muscles jerked up and down on the bed.

Groggily, your vision came back, you watched in embarrassment as AllStar withdrew from your pussy, lips glistening with your cum. 

“How’d it feel? He’s good right?”

You layed there shivering coming down from your forced high. Not responding, you turned over to hide your naked bottom.

“...Bill wants me to take you to him. He said to wear this.”

Opening and closing the dresser he fished out a bikini-looking ensemble, though not made for swimming. It was for strippers; the thong was peppermint print, red and white, little red ribbons on the side. The bra was solid green, tied with a darker green ribbon. 

‘Like a present’ you thought, in the back of your mind you shivered at your dream.

“You can tell Bill, he can kiss my ass.” You said, there was no way you were going to wear that.

Dr.Matthews and AllStar exchanged looks. Crossing their arms.

“...Bill said that if you didn’t, he come get you and bring you-naked.” 

Your lips were pulled in a straight line, the spiked tea threatening to come back up. 

“Please, Y/N. I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

You scoffed at Dr.Matthews lie. There was nobody here who could help you, only yourself. Making a plan, you’d play along with the bastards, then you’d make a break for it. Plan b was for later.

“I want to dress alone.”

“Okay.”

Dr.Matthews pulled AllStar and the drip stand out of the room, the wheels scraped on the floor leaving a small line after.

You flung off your clothes in a hurry, being naked in this compound was proving to be dangerous. You couldn’t face AllStar agian, he had surfaced something you buried deep a long time ago, it made you ashamed to think of it, linking sex with your parents was a sin.

The bikini was tight, the creep had purposefully given a size too small. It showed the majority of your tits,the thong felt as if you had a constant wedgie and the ribbons on the side lightly scratched your skin. With no footwear you put on your dirty boots.

You turned on your heels as AllStar cracked open the door. Eyes traveled over your body slowly, taking every inch to scrutinize. His adams apple bob up and down when he swallowed. 

“...I’m guessing your ready?”

Blushing you fidgeted with the red ribbons on the side. Unable to look at his face.

“Can I wear your jacket?”

The old brown leather he had such trouble zipping up was layed open. You could see his abs under his dark grey shirt, sturdy pectorals bluged slightly.

“...” 

He didn’t say anything but took off the jack and held it out to you. 

“Thanks” you slid it on, three sizes too big. The arms went well pass your hands and the sides hid your thighs. In all you felt like a toddler in grown mans suit.

“I look ridiculous.” You said mostly to yourself 

“...you look...”

He shrugged his shoulders questionably, loss for words.

“...we should go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep wanting this to be longer, but in my head the scenes play out shortery than they are. 
> 
> I’m jumping into the smut and drug use, I don’t really know much, but I’m going to try my best.


	6. Little Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily butts heads with Bill, earning herself a punishment.
> 
> ••The rest of this story will be in different POVs Including *main character-(now named and has a appearance)••
> 
> Lily is the main character name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I changed the type of POV, so we could get a look into Bills and Nixon’s Head. Of course we will always have Lily POV mostly.

It was night out, and the scorching heat had gone down considerably. Lily followed AllStar heels closely, the pathway was lit with small in ground lanterns, the orange wick blew with the wind. 

He stayed silent the entire way, some strangers cat called her, others wiggled their eyebrows suggestively, and every time she glared daggers at them. He took her pass the front entrance of another packed building, choosing the back way in. Looking at the bolted door, and the wooden planks over the windows, nerves had chewed her nails to the stubs.

Lily made sure to remember the layout, and the different cracks and bellows in the brick, planning her escape route.

Distracted, she bumped into AllStars wide back. He moved a foot over letting her see inside.

A very tall, milkshake skinned, blond women opened the door. She was chewing pink bubble gum like a cow.

“Hey, there. The new girl?” 

Her voice had a whiny southern ring to it. As she moved closer, her latex black gloves, yellow thong, matching yellow bra and at least 4 inch heels came into view.

“...yes, she’s here for Bill.” 

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, contemplating Lilys entire child-like figure. Lily’s cheeks burned a bright pink at her ogling, feeling extremely outdone by her very curvaceous body.

“Wow! Really must be sommen’! Bill never likes any girls...”

She put a gloved hand over AllStars pec, seductively. Tracing a tip of her finger around where his nipple would be.

“She even get your limp dick up?” She purred.

AllStars normally expressionless face turned into a deep frown, the corners of his lips twitched angrily.

Abruptly, he snatched his jacket off her shoulders, throwing Lily on the cooling gravel, her apple sized breasts jiggled with the motion. He didn’t even look back as he stormed off. She instantly felt very naked.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. He...his just moody.”

Latex gloves helped her up, ignoring the scars and the bruises on her biceps. 

“I’ll bring you to Bill.” She said, letting Lily inside the warehouse.

Club music was playing inside, so loud Lilys ears rang. There was a purple haze in the back dressing room. Everyone had a joint or bong of some sort, all women dressed similar to her and latex gloves. Lily couldn’t see the front, a giant black drape was blocking the view. 

“Go though that curtain-“

She paused to point to the left side of the drape.

“And up the stage. Bill sitting in the front row. Oh!”

Latex gloves ran over to one of the vanities, pulling out a pair 4 inch black pumps. Lily shook you head no. She’d never worn anything other than boots, she was positive she’d break her neck in those.

“It’s not that hard, here.” Pushing her over closer to the curtain, she saw a flash of the front area. It was filled with men, drinking liquor and smoking. While Lily was looking, she picked up her foot sliding off the boot.

“W-Wait!” 

It was no such luck. She fastened the footwear on her feet, showing how unbalanced Lily was.

“Just up the stairs hun.” Latex gloves gave her a wink before she ran over to the other girls.

Lily poked her nose out the one corner of the drape and her hands shook. Out of the crowd Bill stood up and threw several caps on stage, taking a swig of his liquor. His lustful eyes were all over the girl she couldn’t see on dancing.

A blunt object turned her attention to the side.

There stood a man pointing his pistol right brushed against Lily’s jaw. The cold metal a hair away, she could smell the rusty gunpowder. She couldn’t see his face but maneuvered the gun to say: ‘get up the stairs or else.’

She almost pissed her thong as she slowly moved away from the pistol. Quivering, Lily brought on foot and then the other. As she stood on stage, all eyes turned to her. 

Her shame about her form watered the corners of her eyes. Nobody ever saw her body; not even her mother.

“Come closer.”

Bill waved his hand in summoning, smirking in the way Lily hated. 

When she got the front, she finally saw the entire room. Smaller then she thought, only the front row was taken. Bill, 2 strangers, a girl that was so high dancing and the guy that pointed the pistol at her, were the only people there.

“Copy her girl, exactly like she do’n” 

Bill moved closer, drinking from the bottle but not taking his eyes off Lily.

Lily looked at the woman with sadness. Her arms had several little healed holes inside the forearm, and the pupils of her eyes nearly in the back of her head.

‘Absolutely fucking sick’ Lily thought with a frown. The plan be screwed, she wasn’t going to do anything they asked.

“Eat a dick, Bill.”

The corners of his smirked turned down, his expression was very unamused. With his free hand, he signaled the music to cut, and the ambiance lights flickered.

“The fuck you call me?”

Lilys confidence faltered a bit at his tone, but held her ground.

“I said- eat a dick- BILL!” She said it loud enough the entire compound heard her.

He just stood there, looking at Lily as if she had 3 heads. Then he leaned back and laughed, so hard Lily could see the veins pop out in his neck.

“Oh, Little Bull-“

He turned to tarp flap entrance, cupping his hand by his mouth.

“JEFF!”

Lily entire body went rigged. The only creep she hated more than Bill was that ogling piece of shit, Jeff. 

Jeff jogged in fast breathing heavily, he instantly looked at Lily and licked his lips, making sure she’d seen him do it.

“Go on’ up there with her.” Bills tone was flat, slightly pissed off. He finished his bottle and threw it on the floor. Glass crunched under Jeff’s boots as he walked.

As he jumped on stage, Lily ran over to the stairs; only cut short by the man with the pistol, he aid for her head. Swallowing the lump in her throat she turned to Jeff, his thin oily fingers gripped her wrists tightly. She attempted to thrash, but his grasp was too secure, and the pumps constantly had her off balance.

“Turn her around and show her what happens when she isn’t a good Little Bull.” Bill took one big step to the stage, getting a full view of Lilys tits and small ass.

Jeff smiled ear to ear, turning her behind, putting a slick had over her butt and slapped it so hard there was a red handprint.

“Now, this will continue until you say you’ll be a good girl.” 

Lily turned to curse him out until another hard hit to her behind. Then another and another. It hurt so much fat tears rolled down her freckled face. 

Jeff snaked until her ass was bright red, and purple bruises started to form. Seeing her wail, and beg him to stop, his trousers began to tighten.

“P-please! No more!” 

Lily whined and screamed, her ass stung worse than the wasp sting she gotten as a child.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” Bill asked pleased with her begging.

Lily pursed her lip in defiance. Determined to hold out.

The women next to her fell suddenly, white foam pouring down her face. Through tears she saw Latex Gloves pull her backstage, panic written all over her face. 

Jeff continued to hit her, ignoring the probably dead stripper in the back. Lily couldn’t take it anymore, the pain, her mind shouting at her she deserved this, the images of her father with each smack, it was too much.

“I’ll be a good girl! I promise! Just stop! Please!” 

Jeff stopped and rubbed her raw ass, Lily shivered every time the pad of his thumb touched her.

“Good. Give er’ to me.” 

Bill took her limp body over his shoulder, waves of pain pulled more tears from her. Like petting a cat, he pat his palm over her thighs.

Lily watched the ground go from tile to gravel and thanked the makers that it was night, nobody could see her red ass. 

She wondered if it would be better if she just died, alongside her mother. To finally be free of the pain and be with her father agian, would heaven-or whatever even accept her? No, she thought. She was to corrupted, filthy... something was very wrong with her. She needed to be punished.

A cool air, sweep over her exposed body. Looking up from Bills back, she was in a room. Unlike hers it was much bigger, even had carpet. 

“Take off your clothes.” 

Bill put her down after throwing the pumps over a clothes pile in the corner. Wobbly, she got a good look of the room. It only had a bed and dark blue dresser but behind Bills body she saw a entry to a bathroom, and a tall window. 

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but looking at Bills frowning face she decided against it. Making to conseal as mush skin as possible, she turned tugging the strings loose. The green bra fell to the floor silently, after she looped the ribbons around her fingers and pulled the thong down. 

Standing over her clothes Lily wrapped her arm around her chest and the other over her mound. She could feel Bill eyes grazing over her body.

“An’t much to look at but,-“

Bill pushed her shoulder down to the bed, drawing his knee between her legs.

“I’ll make you scream.”

Lily clawed at the blanket as he traced a finger over her slit, rubbing her clit and teasing her entrance.

“Your wet, Little Bull.” 

She hiccuped in shame, his fingers bringing sweet shocks of arousal. Bill pushed a finger in and felt around for her g-spot, holding his thumb roughly on her clit. Lily tried to crawl away, biting her tongue to surprise her moans.

“D-Daddy stop” she whispered in a fog of pleasure.

Bill stopped short, watching Lily writhe and pant. Thick sheen of sweat over her pale back. He couldn’t fuck her, so he thought of the next best thing.

“Get on your knees.”

Lily rised and turned with her legs like jelly, stooping to Bill crotch level. He wasted no time in unbuckling his belt and pulling it off his jeans. Gathering the material in his fist he pushed his pants to his knees, the bulge in his boxers poking out. 

Lily widened her eyes as Bill withdrew his hard cock, it was massive and at the base was a mix of grey and black hair. She looked to his face and shook her head.

“I-I can’t.”

He gripped her hair tight, smashing her small lips to the hot head. She felt the his pulse beat, and saw a wide vein on the side.

“You can and will.”

With his other hand, he squeezed her jaw until she whimpered it open guiding his dick in quickly. Slow at first, he pushed till the head hit the back of her throat, touching her uvula, then pulled back. Lily sobbed as his cock was wet with her spit and his pre cum. The second time he went harder, hitting to the hilt and shuddered at she choked on his cock. Lily beat her hands on his hips, her vision becomeing spotty, when she was close to passing out he’d pull back. Before she even got a full breathe he would thrust back in, her nose crushed on his pubs. 

“Oh, Little Bull, you so fuckn’ small. Feels so good” 

Bill moaned and used both his hands to fuck her throat. Lily felt his dick twitch in her mouth, spit and drool dribbling over the side of her mouth to her tits. 

“Big Daddy. That’s what you’ll call me!”

He held her head tight driving harder. His face scrunched up into a scowl.

“Say it!”

He pulled out and jerked he’s dick fast.

“B-Big Daddy-“

Hot stings of cum landed on her face, hair and chest. It burned as it slid trails down to her cunt. Lily shivered at the sensation, remembering how her father came all over her mother’s face. It felt so good.

Bill panted heavily, pulling back up his pants and scoop some cum to her swollen lips. Lily opened her mouth freely, even stuck out her tongue, she had deserved this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so shit at smut and writing , I am sorry.


	7. Who’s the one damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nixon’s feels emotions and urges he hasn’t felt in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nixon’ POV for the two chapters! A look on the other side of things

Nixon woke up from another failed nights sleep. The nightmares and screams he heard, played over and over agian. Not even three sleeping pills could put him asleep anymore.

Instead he choose to get up, might as well look over Bessey until dawn, maybe even go out to the main compound and have a chat with Walter.

As so the thought appeared, he mentally shook his head. Not today, he didn’t know how much longer he could put up this charade. Walt...had been a different person before fallout, hell even he had been different. This sick twisted world had changed everyone, no clear line of what’s good or bad. It was about survival, even if that meant Nixon had to forgo some of his morals. 

Getting off his bed, he groaned. He was just 35 but he felt so much older, his muscles and joints ached as he moved. As second in command to the entire raider strongholds, everyday envolved checking the perimeter, insurering the flow of caps were steady, contact with sister organizations stayed friendly, and the human prostitution sex trafficking went without casualties. 

This sickened him to his stomach, he hated what himself and raiders did. In the beginning he had been repulsed, refused to be apart in this drug-sex trade. Of course that changed, starvation, illness and lack of safety pushed him over the edge. Raiders had everything he needed, so he made a blood pack with Walter. In exchange for his basis human needs to be met, Nixon would be a puppet for him, a dirty war dog; he called him once.

Three steps from his bed was the bathroom, a luxury he had as being closest to thier leader. 

‘Leader’ Nixon snorted. Walt was as much of a leader as Nixon was a flying monkey. Walter just knew how to manipulate and coerce other very well. He also was bat shit crazy. So was Nixon for that matter. 

Looking in the mirror, he watched his eyes blink. His 5 o’clock shadow was growing into a full blown beard to his distaste. Even after all these years he still had the marines mentality. Clean shaven face, standing plank straight, wrinkle free clothing, and the ability to kill if needed. Nixon knew that’s what Walter wanted from him; a killer. Someone to invoke fear into other when he couldn’t.

And Nixon did, for years. Now the thrill of having somebody blood on his hands did more harm then good. The emotions he felt before he put a bullet between thier eyes, the fear almost tangible. 

Slipping into his usual grey long sleeve shirt and blue jeans, he shook 5 pain pills from the bottle and downed them without water. Against is better judgment he popped them like candy even if he wasn’t in pain but the uneasiness and paranoia he felt if he didn’t, was enough to make him beg for them like a child. 

When he opened his door he saw the lanky form of Jeff. His lips were pulled back into a wide smile.

He never understood why Walt accepted his recruitment, to Nixon he had no real value. From a analytical viewpoint, Jeff was lazy, a drunk and a pervert. But he was one hell of a mechanic, Nixon had to admit. 

“Mornin’ Nix.” 

Nixon finger twitched in irritation, he hated that nickname; something Bill came up with just to piss him off.

“Yeah,uh, what’s got you so chipper this early in the morning?”

Jeff smiled even wider and wiped more motor oil across his heavily stained overalls.

“That little minx we got two days ago, heh, pissed Bill off...earned er’self a punishment yesterday.”

Nixon didn’t have to ask, he knew Bill liked to ‘break in’ the new girls. It was a routine: take the girls, bring them here, prepair them to be sold, and if they fought Bill would provide discipline. This was the main source of caps, narcotics was just for entertainment.

Bored of the conversation, Nixon turned to leave.

“Oh! Er...one of the girls...she...uh. Overdose.”

Nixon immediately saw red. Sure, the drugs were a way some of them coped, but it wasn’t enough to be addicting. It’d lower the selling price.

“Who?!” 

Jeff flinched at his roar slightly. Nixon was the biggest and scariest guy in the compound; Bill a close second.

“I-I’m- don’t know! Heard another girl took er’ to Dr.Matthews.” 

Not listening, Nixon jogged down the stairs and out the Amory/Common building double doors. Directly across to the right was the Medical Ward.

Once outside the cool breeze of pre-dawn hit his face. A perk of waking up so early, no sweltering heat.

Knocking a massive fist on th black metal door, Dr.Matthews opened the door frowning.

“You don't have to knock the door down.” He said moving to the side. 

Nixon made a bee line for the body he saw laying on one of the cots.

‘Fuckin’ Hell.” He thought, as he looked over the body.

She was dead, that’s for sure. Paler than a ghost, he could see dark veins though her arms. The ends of her fingertips and toes were a deep blue, so was her lips. The most unsettling thing for Nixon was the collar she had clasped and locked behind around her neck. She was sold. 

Nixon put a hand over his face and dragged it. 

If she wasn’t sold, this wouldn’t be such a massive cucking, but she was. Meaning, if whoever brought her came to claim her (a client might not be able to take her on purchase) and learned she was dead. Nixon would have to refund the caps plus interest. That what he didn’t have, the caps for a refund; running a big compound took money. 

“Where is Bill.” It wasn’t a question, Nixon had demanded. 

Dr.Matthews pulled a long sheet over the body, sighing heavily.

“I think, he’s finishing a bill of sale.” 

Nixon nodded and turned to leave, before he took a actual look at Matthews. 

He respected him, a honest doctor and Matthews had saved his life once. Nixon was indebted to him, which he had paid for when he learned Matthews was into wearing a gimp suit. He couldn’t care less, but Matthews begged him, he’d stay quiet.

Out the door and headed to the front gates, he saw Bill and two others looking over a girl. As Nixon got closer the visitor gave him a wave. 

He was a regular, brought atleast a dozen of girls and boys (at a sister compound). Seemed he liked to share them with his friends. Nixon never cared enough to learn more.

“Nixon! It is good to see you my friend!” 

Nixon shook his hand and remembered that his Indian accent was thick.

“Are you done? I have to speak with Bill.”

Bill turned to him and smirked. His shot gun was securely clasped on his hip and had on a long weather inappropriately worn jacket. 

Nixon hates Bill. That shit-eating grin, the southern accent, even his overgrown caveman beard. Perhaps that’s why Walter recruited him, knowing he hated people like him. A southern pretty boy, he had everything Nixon didn’t: loving wife and daughter, good job once as a police men. Gone now, but he had a family, something Nixon wanted but was torn from him before he even had a chance. 

“This ‘bout that dead girl?” Bill said sarcastically.

Nixon’s eyebrows frowned, and he swallowed the urge to break his nose.

“Yes, about that ‘dead girl’. She was sold, 50.000 caps. We don’t have that!”

Bill spit on the ground and walked to wear only Nixon could hear. 

“He owner an’t been here in nearly 3 years. I don’t think he’s showin’ up soon.” 

“You don’t know that.”

Bill shrugged his shoulders, sliding a finger over his gun.

“Your right, I don’t.” 

Nixon fumed, Bill was right, her owner was well pass the pick up date, 2 and a half years late. Nixon held the right to null the purchase. He’d still have a dead body and lose some potential buyers but no caps would be lost. 

‘You lose some to gain some.’ He thought. 

“You want her or not? Damn near dawn. I’ve got a run to make.” 

Bill pushed the half-conscious women into the visitors arms. 

“Yes, she will do well with the others.” He spun her around, her wrists were red from cuffs.

“A’right! Now if you’ll excuse me,”

Bill turned away, walking to the girls dorms.

“Hey, where are you going?” Nixon asked, following her.

“Gonna’ take Little Bull to see if she’s got a group. Back to the town we found her.”

Nixon scoffed at her nickname. When he first saw her, he thought she was child. He body was shaped like one, had the height too. Her face threw him off, oval curved freckled, small nose, plump lips. The face of a women he once knew...once loved. 

“I’m going with you.”

Bill stopped with one eyebrow raised.

“You never go out with us.”

“I am now.”

Walking past him, Nixon opened the dorm door, the smell of weed so thick, he had to wave his hand. Two pairs of heavy boot approached the girls door open and peeking inside, she was lying down in what looked like Bills shirt. 

“Why is she wearing your clothes?”

Bill just smiled, heading towards her. Bill wasn’t particularly interested with the girls, sometimes he’d fuck them but never outright gave them his clothing or paid this much attention. Certainly, never gave them a nickname.

“Little Bull...wakey wakey.”

Nixon watched her stir, long red hair falling over her shoulders. The exact way hers did, when he woke her up with eggs and coffee. He watched Lily turn to Bill and give him a frown, the tips of her ears red in a blush. The exact way she did, when Nixon had pissed her off. 

Heartbeat ringing loud in his ears, he heard her-soft, pleasing tone. He missed it, he missed her. Looking at Lily he saw her, even just for a second, but it was her. How he was sick, how his cock twitched as he watched Lilys small lips move. Like Bill, Nixon had never felt arousal to any of the girls, he hadn’t had the urge to deflower any of them like he did wth Lily. He wanted to call her that name.


	8. Retrieval

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill, Nixon and Lily travel to back to the small town. Getting her mother back, she thought her issues would end. She was wrong, very wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m working hard, keeping the smut and the plot line moving! 
> 
> I think with this chp, Lily will be tortured a bit by Bill and Nixon we will see.
> 
> ⚠️Warning! Graphic depictions of torture! Like really bad. Not for those who are easily sickened by that!⚠️
> 
> Edit: slow update due to personal depression issues and having to rewrite the chapter because I was disappointed with the original.

The wheels kicked up sand as Nixon drove. His head knocked against the sagging roof of the doorless Jeep Wrangler with every bump. Behind him sat Bill and Lily, her freckled hands were bound by rope and tied in a knot, her mouth muffled with duck tape. Bill had insisted on it, complained he didn’t want to hear her screams but Nixon knew he just wanted to see her helpless; the sick fuck. 

“Now honey, we’re going to play a little game called: tell me where you came from and I don’t break all of your little fingers.” Bill said rubbing her arm. 

Nixon watched from the rear view mirror, snorting to himself when Lily furrowed her eyebrows and jerked from his touch, almost falling out the car.

“Pumpkin, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice. I’ve got no problem beating the shit outta you.”

Unable to talk, she just nodded reluctantly. Bill flashed his eyes to Nixon provoking a snarl from him. After working together for years, Bill knew exactly how he felt about him and used it as a form of entertainment for himself. 

‘One day, one day Walt will get sick of him, and on that day I’ll wipe that grin clean off.’ Nixon mused in his mind. 

Nixon broke eye contact, watching the desert dunes through the barley visible windshield. No one bothered to waste resources, or cared to wash it. Then he heard Lily yelp when Bill tore the ducktape from her mouth. Unknowingly gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, Nixon scowled. None of the ‘merchandise’ were to be abused until there price was set, this—Bill knew also.

“Now tell us, where’s your group at?”

“I have no group! It’s—“

Nixon looked to the rearview in time to see her lips pursed in a line. He couldn’t help but raise a eyebrow, this girl was proving to be very interesting to him.

“Hmmm? It’s just what?” Bill questioned

Lily closed her eyes, and breathed heavily.

“It’s just one other...that’s it!”

“One other? They armed, Little Bull?”

Nixon and Lily both cringed at her nickname, Bill had as much imagination as a math teacher.

“No. They have nothing. Our...house is that way.”

She pointed to the east towards the middle of nowhere. This blared red flags in Nixon’s stomach, they’ve been led into a trap before, once leaving a nearly fatal gunshot wound within his chest. In which, upon being healed he killed every single person who was there whether they were innocent or not. 

“You lead us into a trap, not only will I break all your fingers, I’ll pull every single tooth out your mouth, sweetie.”

One thing about Bill was he never grew tired of torturing others. Before Nixon had killed everyone, Bill took a few hostages and used them as a warning to those who were planning a attack. Stringing their body’s by the feet to a abandoned building, he carved his name over the abdomen, if they were men shoved thier dick into eachothers mouths and if they were women he cut each breast off, lining them in a straight line.

“It’s no trap!” 

Lilys voice didn’t hide her terror from Bills threat. Maybe she knew he wasn’t lying; his smirk never left his face the entire time.

* * *

The shack was a pile of shit. Nixon did a double take when his eyes zero in on it, completely made rotten plywood and patchy, rusted metal roofing; he could hardly believe anyone called this a ‘home’.

“This shit-show is where you were stayn’?” 

Nixon turned around to eye Bill, the asshole never thought before he spoke; that careless attitude always landed them into hot water with negotiations. Atleast Nixon had they sense to give respect, even if he did sorta run a sex trafficking business. 

“It’s not a shit-show! We worked day and night to make this!” Lily fumed, her personality was as red as her hair. Nixon thought of _her_ agian.

Bill rolled his eyes and jumped out the Jeep. The force of the door slam sent a cloud of dust in its wake. 

“Whatever you say, Little Bull.” 

Poking her dimpled cheek, he moved to the front door. Shotgun pointed ahead of himself, he entered slowly, like Nixon and himself did whenever they went someplace new. Once he disappeared from view Nixon looked back ahead. 

“Please.” 

Nixon felt a small sweaty hand on his shoulder, bunching the fabric between her fingers. Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head. He couldn’t look at her, not when his mind was tying to trick itself into thinking Lily _was_ her.

“I can tell your...different. Even when you were mean to me, you didn’t look at me like them. You don’t agree to this! J-Just let me go!”

“It’s ISNT that simple! I...I’m not what you think I am. You have no clue what I’m capable of, what I’ve done.”

He couldn’t see her face but knew she was angry, knew her tears were those of rage. Nixon closed his eyelids and prayed to a God he had long abandoned, this guilt he was feeling, it was eating at his poisoned mind. Blaming him, screaming that he could have saved her, could have loved her more, could have been there in the end.

“...n”

Could have...

“Nixon!”

Nixon jumped and growled, ready to kill on instinct. Bill was leaning against the door frame, double barrel shotgun lazyily draped over his shoulder.

“While you were in the daydream’n I found sommen’.”

Nixon wiped the sweat off his brow, jumped over the passenger door and opened the back for her to get out. Thats what Nixon was going to do, call her ‘her’. No name, no identity, just a shell of a person to him.

Bill waited as she hesitantly got out. Her pale legs and cut up arms open for the public to see. Nixon had seen her self-harm, didn’t too much care unless it affected her pricing. Which when Dr.Matthews had said it did, the sight of them now caused a touch of irritation on Nixon’s part. 

Her put-together shack had one half busted window in the front, looked like a sliding rectangle sealed to bowing plywood with Elmer’s glue. The door matched the unprofessional look, spray painted black it had nicks and cracks as Nixon drew closer. Equally broken hinges held the entryway just barley.

Nixon stood infront of Bill holding ‘her’ bonds in a tight grip, he made it a point to not look her way.

“Place bout’ the size of my room. Mostly just useless shit in here but...” Bill turned around to lean and cross his arms on some sort of unorganized desk. Nixon stepped inside and almost gagged. Being no more than 10 square feet, this ‘home’ was a complete mess. Papers littered the black tarp floor, the tears within it fixed with duck tape. He could see the sky though the roof, one windy day could blow it clean off. Directly across from the three was another Elmer glued window, but with a giant crack that stretched diagonally. It was so caked with dirt Nixon couldn’t see the other side. Two steps before the window was two beds—well one bed and a blanket on the floor. He took notice the blanket was worn and dirtied, the off white pillow resting ontop had the impression of a head. How long had she been here? Nixon extinguished his curiosity and looked to the left bed.

“...is she dead?” 

“NO!” 

Lily thrashed agianst Nixon, falling to the tarp and kicking his legs. He didn’t feel it, his undivided attention was to the corpse that layed on a filthy WW2 hospital bed lookalike. The women was raded; Nixon had seen it before, back when fallout first happened and the government still thought people had a chance to survive. Medicine wasn’t enough, everyone, countless bodies died in the hospital. There wasn’t even enough land to bury them, Nixon; a marine was told to burn the overflow. This...women, whoever she was to the girl had a one way ticket. No more than 90 pounds he frowned at the discolored skin that covered her visible bones, scabs and blood soaked bandages did nothing to help her condition. 

Observering her face, Nixon pivoted to Bill. 

“Like a fuckn’ ghost huh? But no. She’s not dead...not yet.”

“Y-you have to help her PLEASE!” The girl gave up fight Nixon, wailing her face a deep red, she begged Bill.

“Why would I bring some half-dead bitch to the compound.”

“SHE IS NOT A BITCH!” 

Bills bored looked twisted into a smirk. Somehow Nixon brows furrowed even further, catching wind that Bill had a idea. It was written all over his stupid face.

“I don’t know, Little Bull. She has very high levels of radiation, see?” 

Bill voice was that for talking to a small child. Humiliation was his angle, huh? Swaggering over to the corpse, he pulled out his dosimeter. It crackled wildly and the needle pointed to the max. 

“P-please...she...she will survive. I..need her. Please.”

Like a fool, Nixon glanced at the girl. Snot ran down her face, combing with her tears. Tiny, skinny frame shivered in fear. Had this been anyone else, He would think this boring and gross. Often the girls would cry, beg, and sometimes try to kill themselves as they traveled to the compound; eventually Nixon grew desensitized about it. But this girl...He felt bad, to him seeing her cry made her even more desirable, cute.

“...”

Bill eyed the girl, then the women. Nixon knew he made a decision that was unspoken. 

“No, Bill. We don’t have resources to waste on somebody that’s just going to die.”

“She isn’t going to die! B—“

The girl stopped talking suddenly and held her head down. Her ears turned tomato red.

“It’s just for a while Nix. We could technically make her that girl that died yesterday. Like...switching identities.”

Nixon blinked and stared at Bill.

Then he released a loud eruption of forced laughter. Dropping the girls wrists, he slapped the desk so hard the wood broken under it and plunged everything ontop of it to the bumpy floor.

“You think we’re in some television show? Some...Mask type shit?”

Bill stayed silent. Astonishingly from his peripheral vision, Nixon watched Him pull the blanket back and hook one arm under the women’s head and the other under her knees. His heavy coat passed the girl and him, Nixon caught the tail end of him talking under his breath. 

“...things I do for some pussy.” Bill mumbled.

“T-thank you!” 

The girl scrambled to catch up with him and Nixon followed. Bill had already put her in the back, didn’t buckle her in but rested her head on the side carefully. That was very unlike him also; to be careful, taking consideration in somebody else’s comfort other than his own.

“Hop in Little Bull.” 

He still held the childish tone, Nixon wondered what he had up his sleeves.

“We will talk about this at the Compound Bill.”

“Sure. Nix.”

Without doubt Bill wasn’t listening to him, he stayed eyeing the girl and how her—his shirt rolled up her thighs as she got in. Nixon was steadily getting more and more angry, bringing the corpse was enough to make his blood boil but...there was something else that was pissing him off. 

Getting to the drivers seat and starting the Jeep, Nixon eyes flickered to the mirror. Bill had his arm slinged around the girls body, the tips of his fingers could almost touch the women. Nixon clenched his fist when Bill whispered something to Lily, whatever he said made her jaw clench. 

“Just one, Sweet thing. Unless you’ve never been kissed before.”

The girl turned to look at Bill properly. Reluctantance dances over her average facial features. Blackmail...that was his sick plan, and Nixon thought he was genuinely concerned. Bill...he was cruel as he was crazy. Losing your wife and child the same day had it effects it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not saying math teachers are unimaginative, just stating math is very analytical. Don’t Necessarily have to use much imagination for it.
> 
> I’d love to hear your side if your beg to differ.
> 
> Also! I’m tying to paint that Nixon is borderline OCD-ish, he’s very bothered by disorder (perhaps from being a marine?) and of course he is just as unstable as Lily.
> 
> Mask is a actual show. Korean drama about a woman switching identities with someone whose dead.


	9. Nothing Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilys mother is at the compound, relief is replaced with terror when she learns how the raiders really work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is hard but I’m trying my best! Please leave a comment if you can, really gives me the drive to continue. Haha
> 
> Bill P.O.V will be after the next...maybe four chapters. So we can peek inside Bills nasty crazy mind. Well, everyone is crazy here.
> 
> Whoa, like seriously. That was a long wait. This chapter will be very short, I wanted to get something out there. Thank you for da kudos!

Lily tried to quiet her sobs looking at her mother. Choking back the hiccups that somehow materialize whenever she cried heavily. It shocked her how the radiation posioning could have gotten so much worse in these few days. Dark patchy dead skin flacked off hollow Cheek bones and protruded out from her pale jaundice skin. Nixon was begrudgingly right; she could’ve given a cadaver a run for its money.

In the backseat, Bill ran his thumb over her mothers cracked lips, and from the corner of her eyes Lily watched him grin ear to ear. Suddenly the urged to give him another slap boiled inside her stomach and twisted her fingertips, but that said burlap rope fraying the skin around her hands quickly deflated the impulse. How she wished to give him what he really deserves, across his silver fox face—again. Lily knew he was teasing her- enjoyed her humiliation and suffering. For not 5 minutes ago he demanded her to give him a kiss for saving her mother. As if he _deserved_ it. Had he thought himself a hero, by being a decent human for once and wanted to claim his aforementioned prize? Lily almost gave a audible laugh, she’d rather kiss a frog than lock lips with that asshole.

“Stop that.” Lily’s voice was low behind the kickback of loose gravel and dirt.

“Stop what...?” 

Bills thumb nail pushed between her mothers bottom lip and tapped her yellowing teeth. The sight making Lily almost throw up. Adored her as she did, her mother was rancid. And judging by the leftover spittle around her lips, her mother probably vomitted herself behind the sewage-like body order.

“You’re so fucking disgusting.”

Lily moved from facing her mother to stare daggers at Bills very inappropriate gaze. Nothing was taboo to raiders it seemed. She internally winced at the thought of their group molesting a breathing skeleton. One slow sly wink, his eyes smoothed from her mothers lips to Lily’s eyes and back. Wrinkling her brow in distaste, she had trouble imagining what he was before fallout. What happened for him to become a perverted rapist raider, to so blantly tease her until she give him a kiss. His handsome appearance would have bewitched her in a alternate universe.

“Me? Well, this ‘disgusting’ gentleman wants a wet kiss, toots.” 

Grimacing, Lily narrowed her eyes and thought about it. She has never been kissed nor ever had the desire to be kissed. Which was humiliating at her age, even in fallout. Once, Long ago—one year living at the underground government facility; the opportunity or rather the idea presented itself, to pursue a more ‘intimate’ relationship with a fellow teen. He had given her a warm smile, but it and he ended up with a black eye and broken nose after about a week. It was then her immoral daddy issues revealed itself too. The boy looked too identical to her father, and himself too hasty for sexual relationships. 

“Oh, right! You an”t too keen in the looks, there darln”. Shame really.” Bill raised his brows like he had heard the funnies joke on earth and took his hand from her mothers mouth. Lilys face scrunched up into a deep snarl, fumbling with her restraints vigorously. 

“I seriously hate you, creep. The **second** I get a chance to kill you, I’m going rip your goddamn head off.” She said behind a tigh teeth clench.

Lilys mind was broken, sick, useless enough to wish herself dead and literally slice her legs, arms— anything to the bone for release. Always thought of herself as ‘extraordinary ordinary ‘ with the power to disappear in a crowd or room, like a ghost. No one had every looked at her in a ‘that’ sort of way, never stood out. So his remark was a dull blade cutting at her emotions. Painfully slow.

“Save the wailing or I’ll toss that bitch right out the fucking car.” 

Completely serious, Bill gripped her jaw painfully tight. Lily reflexively thrashed against his hold wildly. He had to be the craziest person she’s ever met. One second he could be teasing her, then the next he’d look so distant and cold. Desperate, she looked at the rear view mirror to plead Nixon for some help, but his face was blissfully ignorant or he was just flat out ignoring her. Sometimes he’d look to the passing the old shantytown, the buildings were a blur, sight limited by the cloud of orange dust.

Her stomached flipped in fear, she was officially out of options. Carefully, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine kissing somebody...she liked. Someone... she loved. Her fathers warm honeysuckle smiling crinkled eyes flashed before her thought Immediately. The memory of her mother greeting him at the door with a quick kiss, and after work, or whenever they thought she was asleep. To feel those—Popping her eyelids open, Lily wiped the memory away in shame. Her lips were pursed in a frown, the feeling of _jealousy_ For her own mother flooded her mouth. remarkably that was one thing she rather kiss Bill than think of. 

Giving him a proper look, Bills lips were thick, plump and pink. He had licked them as she moved to betray every moral she had. 

Warm.

Wet.

Prickly.

That was her first kiss. No more than a second, she smashed her lips to his and flew back. Every ounce of her blood rushed to her face, a blush deeper than the feathers of a cardinal.

Turning his head, chuckling slightly, Bill sucked his teeth in a tsk and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. The scratch against it was audible, like a rough sandpaper.

“Again...that was some bad shit.”

Lily wrinkled her nose in repulsion. His overgrown beard tickled her chin aggressively. Perhaps he was back to his ‘easygoing’—“sarcastic”self she gambled. Lily swallowed the lump in her throat, she’d have to participate in his little game rather she liked it or not. She knew he had other, more clandestine plans for her.

“I did what you asked.” She said grinding her jaw.

Bill looked towards the windshield in thought. Nothing was in the horizon, just miles of man-made roads and the occasional long dead caci. Lily chewed the side of cheek in anxiousness, never taking her eyes off him, waiting for him to change agian. Her bound thumbs nicked at each other, the cuticle starting to irritate and bleed.

“Open your mouth.” 

Bills hair flailed crazily with the wind, when he slid a palm under Lily’s mandible turning her head up to him. She was sweaty, shaking and red all over. The embarrassment, humiliation and humidity was drowning her but, he didn’t have a single drop of perspiration. His Grey eyes stayed with their attention on her pink skinny knees. 

impatiently patting the underside of her jaw to hurry her, Bill leaned in close. He smelled of whiskey, cigarettes and cologne. The scent close to the one her father often used. Red tangled hair mixing with his, Lily forced her mouth open the size of a cherry. And Being so near to her, Lily had the chance to peekunder his collar. The skin was paler, covered in gray/black hair and unscarred. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

Small sweaty hands shot up in defense when Bill took his whole mouth to encase hers. Left, right and left again, he sucked on her top lip and bit the bottom. His entire body pressed her between the seat and her mother. Worried, She forced herself closer to him, less her mother would tumble right out the backseat. Half her brain was focused on her staying inside the Jeep and the other she heard herself screaming inside her head, haunted with visions of her late father laughing together, the warmth of his body cuddling her toddler form after dinner over and over.

His Heavy tongue dragged across small soft lips before pushing in to wrestle with hers. In a frenzy, Lily moved her head sideways to no avail. The residue of the whiskey burned her mouth and she could literally _taste_ the cigarette he smoked, beyond that their thick spit and saliva traded places. 

He didn’t let up, until a big bump forced their mouths apart. Everyone jiggled bit, and whatever was in the trunk did too. The temperature had already escalated 10 degrees. The surroundings completely silent outside the sounds of road and rapid movement of the piston inside the cylinder. Lily panted, thankful for Nixon’s reckless use of the wheel.

“Sweet.” Bills voice was lower than usual and his look...animalistic.

Apparently not giving two shits about Nixon, he once more attacked her moist appendage. He enjoyed her little sounds he took from her. Sliding over her teeth, inspecting both cheeks, three times over her tongue and almost to the back of her throat, Bill tasted every part of her.

“Open your legs.” He all but ordered, nibbling on her ear lob.

“W—?! My _mother_ is in the car, slimeball.”

“And?”

Bill was confident resting his hand on her upper thigh. The over sized t-shirt he gave her had ridden up, an inch from exposing her down south lips.

Mortified, enraged, desperate and aroused the amount of a mustard seed, Lily wilded her knees together. ‘Please not this!’ She thought. After what happened in his room, she was shamed and frightened. Not only did he make her cum violently, used her as a glorified crispy sock and found out her deep Daddy issues. He Played her like a damn fiddle.

Lily didn’t know if she was either weak from not eating proper meals, or Bill was a fucking supervillian, as he parted her knees with ease. His fingers trailed around cremed skin, goosebumps beading upon the rough touch. 

“Don’t—Ni—!”

Muffled by Bills over-zealous kissing, she shook as he touched her folds. One finger pushed in and wiggled, —teasing itself to find that little spot she had.

“Quiet, Little Bull. Want ol’solider boy to hear?”

Bill threat made her eyes cut to the rear view agian wearyingly. Nixon hadn’t did anything like Bill or obnoxiously sexualize her like Jeff did, but she wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t change his mind. Every raider had something off about them; just like her.

Two fingers in and out her traitorous wet cunt, Bill was going to make her cum again—already. He memorized where to rub, and pinch Lily insides, her toes curling within the heavy boot she wore. 

“Knew you’d like this.” Bill whispered to her, and his other hand reaching to grab a handful of her titty. 

Without wanting to show her disgusting arousal, Lily gripped Bills shirt and nuzzled her face on his chest. She was so close already, the slick noises in her ear and slight pain behind his rough grope was too pleasurable. Her mouth parted, a low moan emitted from her with a almost slient “Daddy” attached.

“That’s right, cum for your daddy, kid” Bill inserting a third finger painfully rubbing that pleasure spot was her ultimate undoing. Biting her lip and squeezeing his fingers, Lily came aggressively. Her fingers were so curled, the ends had a light reddish color and her whole body quivered. Taking deep breathes of Bills nautral smell, her head swirled in euphoric waves. How did he smell just like her father? How-or why did he make her feel so good? And why did she regrettably enjoy it? 

These questions and their answers, terrified her. But she had to endure it, for her mother. Atleast until she came up with a plan to escape. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Nixon’s deep voice pulled Lily from her pleasure high, and back to sickening reality. She wanted to vomit and shoot a hole though Bills fat head. Blaringly Satisfied with himself, he grinned even wider, slowly licking the fingers that were knuckle deep in her just moments ago.

“Just hav’n a sweet treat.” Bill winked at her, turning his body back around to fiddle with his surprisingly clean shotgun. Flipping him off the best she could, Lily ignored the twinges of her orgasm and watched blankly pass her mother. The town was coming close back into view, which gave her some comfort. She’d have a chance to get away from Bill and finally treat her mothers condition.

“Sweet Treat?” Nixon said watching the rear clearly unconvinced but he didn’t push that conversation. Lily refused to look at him, her abuse was probably apparent on her face. Often her father called her ‘open as a book.’ 

“Well. Thanks dad.” She thought to herself, wiping spittle that Bill left on her.

* * *

Once the gates of the compound came into full view, Lily held her mother close. This was the second time she saw that rusted brown barbed wire and those black n’ brown rabid mutant dogs-held back with just a chain link. Their mouths foaming, and all four beasts barked the loudest they could monstrously. As Nixon sped through, pass them and their equally mutant looking handlers, Lily let the breath out she unknowingly held. 

Pulling into the cracked rock and Before the engine even cut, Bill literally jumped from one side of the Jeep, over his door, and moved to grip her mothers forearm. Disgusted Lily wrinkled her brows, hissing his hand away. Those hairy hands still had the scent of her juices. There was no way that was going to be put on her mom.

“Aw. Don’t be like that, pumpkin.” 

Unaffected by her warning, his grip rounded behind her easily lifting the purple and green arm of her mother. Her starving body sounded like a sack of potatoes hitting Bills back with her head directed towards his ass. 

“Come on.” He cooed to Lily reaching for her. The second she looked at his hand, she blushed. She felt herself clench at the recent memory. Remembered hearing herself call him daddy.

“I- can—“

Cut off she Recoiled away from him to unintentionally threw herself onto his muscles arm. Lily could have sworn she heard him give a imitation moan.

“I can carry both.”

“Cut the shit, Bill.”

Promptly following his berate, Nixon maneuvered Lily towards him. His large hands held her shoulders in a tight grip, they both started to walk to the medical bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orphaned Out Pet, didn’t like the story arch anymore.


End file.
